That's the way the Cookie Crumbles
by k2912p
Summary: Francine asks Amanda for some baking help. What could possibly go wrong? Thank you to Raizelinplaid for the cover art!


The usual disclaimers apply.

Thank you to my cousin, Laura, for the inspiration and the ladies of The Steno Pool for the suggestion and ideas!

Francine stood at the kitchen counter and surveilled her surroundings. Flour coated every surface and floated in the air. Broken egg shells lay like fallen soldiers, and when coupled with the smoking remains of the gingerbread men it was obvious their deaths had been in vain. Suddenly, Francine stopped and sniffed the air.

"No no no no no!" She rushed to the oven to pull the latest batch of victims out of their crematory. She thumped the baking sheet on the counter just as the smoke detector wailed at the foul odor emanating from the kitchen.

She was rooted in place, unsure what to do, when Amanda breezed in to the kitchen. She threw open the door and grabbed a dish towel, fanning the smoke from the piercing scream of the smoke detector. Finally, the wailing ceased. Francine breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Francine! I left you alone for twenty minutes! What happened down here?" Amanda gestured to the remains of her once pristine kitchen.

"I tried to do what you said. I mixed the ingredients and then added the four cups of flour."

"You added it all at once?"

Francine nodded. "Yes, but it didn't come out like yours. When I went to stir it, it wouldn't mix."

Amanda shook her head. "Francine, that's why I told you to add it _gradually_. When you add it all at once it's difficult to mix."

Francine nodded. "Well, that explains that."

Amanda gestured to the burnt cookies. "What happened to the timer? I told you to set it for 10 minutes at three hundred fifty degrees."

Francine's eyes widened. "Oh, Amanda. I thought you said Four hundred fifty degrees!"

Amanda scrunched her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay, that's an honest mistake, but how did the flour get _everywhere?_"

"Well, when I couldn't mix it, I just used that hand mixer thing you used last time you gave me a lesson."

Amanda dropped her hand and stared at her friend in disbelief. "We were making a _cake_, Francine!"

Francine stared at her, uncomprehending. "There's a difference?"

With a sigh and a quick shake of her head, Amanda set about cleaning up the destruction. She saw some of the gingerbread men were not as burnt. She picked one up and nibbled the edge of it before promptly spitting it out.

"Francine, these don't have any sugar in them, and they're very salty!"

"No, that isn't right. I put sugar in them. It's right….here. Oh dear."

Amanda stifled a giggle. "Didn't you see that it was a salt container?"

Francine was flummoxed. "Well, I didn't really notice because I was trying to find my nail in the batter."

"You lost your nail?"

"It wasn't my fault. I was scraping out the egg shells and it banged against the side of the bowl. It just snapped."

"I know how it feels," Amanda muttered under her breath.

"What?"

Amanda plastered on a smile. "I said I see how that can happen."

Francine looked apologetic. "Amanda, I'm really sorry. I'm just not the domestic type. I'm really trying, though." She gestured with her arms and knocked the mixing bowl off the counter, sending more flour along the floor, along with bits of inedible batter. Francine bent to pick it up but knocked into it again, sending more of the vile mixture skittering across the floor.

"Francine, it's fine just leave it. I'll get it."

"Okay, I'll grease the baking sheets for the next batch."

Amanda didn't see any harm in that and agreed, hoping to keep Francine out of the way. While her back was turned, Amanda didn't see Francine reach for the vegetable oil instead of the butter. As she poured some onto the baking sheet, some of it splashed onto the floor. Francine didn't notice and went about her task. Amanda was sweeping the floor and advancing backwards towards the oil slick. She stepped back at the same time as Francine. Feet scrambled for purchase on the slippery floor and both women tumbled to the ground.

"Francine, why is the floor slippery?" Amanda asked once they had regained their composure.

"Oh, Amanda! I'm sorry! I must have spilled some oil when I was greasing the cookie sheet!"

Amanda was dirty, covered in flour and oil, hurting from their tumble and completely out of patience. "Francine! We don't grease a baking sheet with vegetable oil! I told you to use butter!"

Francine groaned as she attempted to pull herself off the coated floor. "I know, I know! But I had left the butter on the stovetop and the heat from the oven must have melted it. I thought oil would do the same thing!"

"_Vegetable _oil?"

"Yes, Amanda. I thought all oil was the same. I'm not good at this!"

Amanda scoffed. "Thank God I didn't leave the baby oil out!"

"Amanda! I told you I was bad at this! But just so you know, I wouldn't have used baby oil!" Under her breath, she added, "probably."

Amanda stared at the blonde. Her hair was mussed and covered in bits of batter and flour, her pants were streaked with oil and she was missing a nail. She started to laugh and was quickly joined by Francine. After several minutes, Francine looked at her friend apologetically.

"Amanda? Next time I ask you to help me bake, will you do me a favor?"

Amanda shuddered at the thought of going through this again, but shook it off. "Sure Francine."

"Take a page out of Mrs. Welch. Knock me out and wake me when it's over!"

In the next instant, they both froze at the deep baritone voice.

"Ladies, say cheese!"


End file.
